


Twin Sized Mattress

by ace3292



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Post Season 3, Sad Mickey, Song fic, the front bottoms - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:52:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace3292/pseuds/ace3292
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POST 3X12.  It’s been a week since Ian left for the Army, and Mickey is a wreck. The song that comes up on his iPod doesn’t help matters. As the song plays, Mickey is bombarded by memories of Ian while he listens to the lyrics. Basically a drabbles piece, with each chapter being a different memory of Mickey and Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wiry Broke Down Frames of my Friends' Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hey y’all. This is going to be my first Mickey and Ian fic, and this story has been swimming around in my head ever since I listened to this song this summer. Each chapter is going to be a verse or line from the song that draws a memory of Ian from Mickey’s brain. Some chapters are going to be scenes from the show, but in Mickey’s POV, while others are going to be little drabbles of scenes we never got see. 
> 
> The song is Twin Sized Mattress by The Front Bottoms. 
> 
> Here’s a link to the song, as well as the lyrics: https:// www.youtube.com /watch?v=c WJUk65EnQM  
> (take out the spaces )
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoy the ride!!! ~a.C.e.

Chapter 1: Wiry Broke Down Frames of my Friends’ Bodies

 

It had only been one week.

One week since he’d heard that voice that made his insides warm. One week since he’d last seen that grin spread across a freckle ridden face. One week since the one steady structure he had left in his life left on a fucking bus for the fucking Army, and one god damn week since Mickey Milkovich felt like he was standing on slightly stable ground.

Mickey felt like an empty shell; hollow and fragile. He hadn’t left his room for anything, except eating and pissing. His room was masked in darkness, and the smell of smoke, stale beer and body odor hung in the air, the stench thick with every inhale. Mickey didn’t notice; he couldn’t notice. He was numb, and yet, he was more emotional than he ever thought possible. All his thoughts surrounded around that redheaded son of a bitch that left him in this hell. He didn’t speak to anyone, not even offering the occasional grunt when his sister checked in on him. He was just silent, letting his demons eat away at him from the inside.

After a week of mental torture, Mickey couldn’t take the silence any longer. He searched for the iPod he had stolen from some rich kid’s pocket, placed the headphones over his ears, and pressed shuffle. The familiar sound of an acoustic guitar and drums filled his ears, and Mickey froze. He knew this song. He knew this song well. Mickey felt the prickling along his eyes, but forced the tears back as he let the song play.

 

_This is for the lions living in the wiry broke down frames of my friends bodies._

_When the flood water comes, it ain't gonna be clear. It’s gonna look like mud._

_But I will help you swim. I will help you swim. I'm gonna help you swim._

 

A tear slipped down Mickey’s cheek as he whispered into the darkness, “Wish you were here now, Firecrotch, ‘cause it feels like I’m fucking drowning.”


	2. For the Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mickey finds Mandy sitting alone at the kitchen table, and she tells him about Ian, and how somebody beat the shit out of him. Takes place the morning after the beatdown in episode 3X09.

Chapter 2: For the Sleepless Nights

 

_This is for the snakes and the people they bite;_

_For the friends I’ve made;_

_For the sleepless nights;_

Mickey let the front door slam behind him as he made his way inside his house. He averted his gaze from the couch that held too many painful memories, and spotted Mandy staring off into space in their kitchen. Mickey walked over to the fridge and grabbed himself a beer, noticing the way his sister jumped at the sudden noise that filled the small room.

“You remember to check behind the grille for hair?” He asked, taking a seat in the empty chair beside Mandy, while cracking open the beer with his recently bruised knuckles.

Mandy nodded her head silently, still staring off into space.

“Good,” he replied, before letting the silence overwhelm them. Mickey sat in the worn chair, slowly sipping his beer, and remembering how he received the slight pain in his knuckles the day before. The look of pain swimming in green depths, the crunch of bone under his fingers, and the color of blood dripping down a freckled face that matched ginger locks. The scene played on repeat in his mind, and as Mickey took another swig from his beer, he couldn’t help but wish he was drinking something stronger to help him forget the memories of the previous afternoon.

“I might need your help later today,” Mandy said after a while, looking into Mickey’s eyes.

“Thought you just ran over some chick with a fuckin’ car. The fuck else you gotta take care of?” Mickey asked, finishing off his beer, and belching loudly.

Mandy looked down at the table, and laughed quietly for a moment, before meeting Mickey’s gaze once again, her own eyes filled with pain and anger. “Some fucker beat the shit out of Ian yesterday, and when I find out who, they’re fucking dead,” she spoke, with such cold, hard determination, that Mickey felt a chill run up his spine.

Mickey tried to calm his features while his insides screamed with remorse and guilt. He reached a slightly shaking hand into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes and lighter. He ran through the information his sister just told him as he brought a cigarette to his lips, lit the end, and exhaled somewhat steadily through his nose. _Fuck_ he thought, fighting back the familiar sting around his eyes.

Mickey took another drag and blew out the smoke through his mouth this time. “You know what happened,” he asked, passing the stick to Mandy as he tried to compose himself.

“Not enough,” Mandy said, sucking the smoke into her lungs greedily. “I got a text from Lip this morning telling me to come over right away,” she laughed sarcastically, ashing the cigarette on the floor, “Thought he found out about-,” she shook her head, taking another deep inhale before continuing. “I got there, and he told me he spent the whole night listening to Ian crying in his bed, holding a bag of peas to his face. I guess Lip tried to talk to him, but Ian wouldn’t say anything, and he thought I might be able to help,” Mandy shook her head again as she passed the cigarette back to Mickey. She was silent for a few seconds before she continued talking, “I’ve never seen him like that, Mick. His face was all bruised, and it looked like he was missing a fucking tooth. But it wasn’t just that. He looked so,” Mandy stopped to think of a word to describe the look on her best friend’s face, “broken.”

Mickey’s insides clenched at the last word. _FUCK_. He remained silent as he let the smoke fill his lungs, and burn his throat, the nicotine doing nothing to settle his nerves. He needed to forget. He couldn’t remember. It was all too much for the Southside thug to handle; the wounds were too fresh. Mickey stood up from the table after finishing the rest of the cigarette, now in desperate search of alcohol to stem the flow of memories rising to the surface. “Yeah,” he finally replied, “I’ll help.”


	3. Signs I've Completely Ignored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey thinks back to the earlier moments when he should have realized he was fucked because of Gallagher. Takes place somewhere in season 2, because there sure as hell weren’t enough goddamn Mickey and Ian scenes.

Chapter 3: Signs I’ve completely ignored

 

 

_For the warning signs I’ve completely ignored._

_There’s an amount to take, reasons to take more._

 

 

It was one of the rarest sights to find in the Gallagher household; when it was completely empty and silent. No brothers and sisters running around, no screaming and bickering, or laughing and joking between siblings; just the sounds of Chicago’s Southside making its way into the home through the admittedly thin walls. Which is why Mickey Milkovich found himself lying side-by-side with his, secretly, favorite Gallagher, passing their second joint of the hour back and forth between them. They had fucked twice already, once with Mickey bent over the armrest of the family couch as Ian forcefully plowed him from behind, followed by an equally intense session against Ian's bedroom door, which finished on his desk. They were both naked and sweaty, enjoying the afterglow as their minds fogged from the high.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian asked quietly from besides him, passing the joint to Mickey, who accepted it with his _FUCK_ hand.

“Yeeeeah, Firecrotch,” Mickey replied, pulling hard on the joint, and closing his eyes as he felt the effects almost instantly.

“How’d you know I was gay?” He asked, looking over at Mickey with half closed, bloodshot eyes, and faint smile playing on his otherwise curious face.

“The fuck are you talking about? Pretty sure the dick up my ass when we fuck is a dead fuckin’ give-away,” he said, rolling his eyes as he took another hit before passing it back to Ian.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian laughed next to him, bringing the joint to his lips, and smirking when he felt Mickey’s eyes locked on his mouth, “I’m being serious. When we first fucked, it just sorta, happened. I mean, I could feel you get hard,” he smirked that smirk that drove Mickey wild, remembering their first time, “but how the hell did you know?” he looked at Mickey quizzically once again as he handed the joint back to the thug.

Mickey accepted it as he tried to think clearly through the high he was experiencing. He laughed before he sucked in the smoke, and held it for a few seconds before he answered the boy that was slowly becoming much more than a convenient fuck. The boy he was slowly realizing caused him to be increasingly fucked, and not in a good way.

“It was the day you told Mandy,” He smiled, staring off straight ahead as he remembered the morning in question. “I’m not usually known for being up early in the morning, but some punk had been avoiding me the day before,” he smirked over at Ian, who rolled his eyes in reply, “So I was up to give him a friendly welcome at the shithole he worked in,” Ian laughed and shoved his arm, grabbing the joint as Mickey laughed next to him. “Anyway,” Mickey continued, trying to find his train of thought once again, fighting the short term memory as best he could, “Mandy was going out to get eggs for breakfast, and when I saw we were almost outta beer, I went to go tell her. I heard her scream at you, and tell you to get away. I fuckin’ hightailed it to the door, and was almost to the side of the house when I heard you tell her. Not fuckin’ smart, by the way, yellin' that shit out in the open. The hell were you thinking,” he glared at Ian, realizing the situation could have been much more severe, had it been anyone else to have overheard the redhead’s confession.

“Aw, Mick,” Ian smiled his dorky, lopsided grin that made Mickey’s insides flutter, “I didn’t realize you cared.”

“Fuck off, Gallagher,” Mickey said, nudging Ian with his shoulder, but lacking the venom in both his words and actions. He received a playful nudge in return, and couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face as he looked away from Ian. He tamed the stupid smile that had fought it’s way onto his face, and chanced a glance at the boy next to him, blue eyes meeting green under thick lashes. The softness of the gaze that met his had Mickey’s heart flutter in response. He was fucked. 

He should have known it was coming, though. There were warning signs everywhere before he was lucky enough to have Gallagher inside of him on his cramped twin sized mattress. He could have prevented these feelings from ever happening if he had just paid fucking attention to the sirens that went off whenever he had been around the boy that now laid beside him.

The first time was when he found out Gallagher was gay. That’s what started the downfall, all the possibilities and scenarios that played in Mickey’s mind every time he saw a flash of red hair in a crowd. That’s when Ian had first started getting under his skin, seeping into his system like a fucking disease that refused to disappear.

The second time he should have known he was completely fucked was when he practically fucking INVITED Gallagher’s dick into his ass the day he threw the chip dip at Kash N’ Grab’s door. _You know where I live if you’ve got a problem._ The fuck was wrong with him? Taunting his mind with more scenarios of rough fucks on his bed. He was a fucking idiot.

But it had finally happened. He had finally gotten his wish, and that’s when he should have known, and, if he was true to himself, did know he was completely fucked when it came to Ian Gallagher. Holding that tire iron above his head, and staring down into those wide green eyes and freckled face, Mickey was a goner who couldn’t take his clothes off fast enough. It was the first time Mickey was fucked by Ian both literally and figuratively.

Would he have stopped it if he had realized the warning signs soon enough, he wondered. He chanced another stolen glance at the gorgeous redhead by his side, and realized that, no, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I had to do an Ian-asking-Mickey-how-he-knew-he-was-gay fic , even though I know it’s been done many times before. I just never felt the authors realized something that was so clear to me when I was rewatching season 1. Mickey tells Kash that he’s going to be meeting them bright and early at the Kash and grab, and Ian tells Mandy before work that he’s gay. It just made sense to me that the most organic way Mickey found out Ian was gay was that he overheard Ian tell her, and that was most likely why he was so quick to back off Ian when Mandy told him to.
> 
> COMMENT AND KUDOS POR FAVOR (lemme know if I'm in character and whatnot, because this is my first Mickey and Ian fix, and I wanna know if I need to do any tweaking/I'm a greedy comment whore)


	4. Prayed You Would Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another mid season 2 episode :)

Chapter 4: Prayed You Would Change

 

_It's no big surprise you turned out this way._

_When they closed their eyes and prayed you would change._

_And they cut your hair and sent you away._

  

Mickey was startled awake from his nap by the sound of a folder hitting his mattress close to his head, and a backpack being dropped on the floor. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and glared at the intruder who interrupted his REM cycle.

"The fuck, Gallagher," Mickey groaned as he turned back over and closed his eyes once again, trying to drift back off into unconsciousness.

"Move over," Ian said as he climbed onto the cramped bed, pulling out a cigarette once he was settled. Mickey grabbed it from Ian's lips where the redhead had lit it, and stuck it between his own, smirking at the other boy while he inhaled. Ian rolled his eyes, before continuing to speak. "They hate me," he mubled, looking down at the folder that was laying between them.

"Who, and what the fuck for?" Mickey asked before passing the cig back to the boy beside him.

"Lip and Fiona, mostly, but I can tell Debbie and Carl do, too," he said quietly, keeping his head down as he took a slow drag from the cigarette.

"Still doesn't explain the 'why' part of my question, firecrotch," Mickey said, reaching back for the smoke and taking a puff.

 "West Point," was all the redhead gave for a reply, his eyes moving back to the folder sitting innocently between the two boys.

 Mickey followed his gaze, and rolled his when he saw the West Point folder. "They don't fuckin' hate you, man. Just don't want you gettin' blown to bits in some fuckin' towelhead infested 'Stan, is all." He looked back at Gallagher, waiting for the boy to raise his ginger head, and meet his eyes.

When he finally did, Mickey could clearly read the pain written in the younger boy's expression. "It's my dream to be an officer; to serve my country. Why can't they understand that? I've worked so hard at ROTC, you'd think they would understand where that was going to lead," he shook his head in frustration, and then continued, "I know they don't hate me," he said quietly, "but I also know they wish I wanted to get out of southside some other way. They'd probably pray for me to change my mind if we did shit like that." He took another inhale off the cigarette that Mickey offered him.

And, fuck, if Mickey didn't pray silently for that very thing. He knew it was firecrotch's dream to serve his country, but was it so horrible that Mickey didn't want the guy, who he was starting to realize he was growing attached to, to die in a fucking desert overseas? Mickey sure as fuck didn't think so. _Haircuts pretty hot though_ Mickey thought to himself as he watched Ian blow smoke from the last of the cigarette out of his mouth. Mickey smiled at him when their eyes met, enjoying the twinkle in the green orbs staring back at him. No, he thought, it wasn't bad at all.

 


	5. The Night You Escaped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the scene from 3x12 where Ian tells Mickey he's enlisting. Mickey's POV. Enjoy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, this is the verse that first made me think about writing this story. It was just too fucking perfect, you know? I hope I did an alright job getting into Mickey's head on this one. It was my first ever POV scene from a show/book, and it was a doozy of a scene at that lol so I hope I did alright with it :/ Also, if somebody, ANYBODY, could comment and give me some feedback, that would be wondiferous :) (do i sound too desperate….?)

Chapter 5: The Night You Escaped

  
 _You stopped by my house the night you escaped._  
 _With tears in my eyes I begged you to say._  
 _You said, "Hey man, I love you, but no fucking way."_

  
Mickey was in his room lifting weights when he heard the knock on the door. He ignored it, continuing his reps without thought to the person waiting outside. That is, until another knock, more persistent this time, echoed throughout the house, causing Mickey to groan in frustration. "MANDY! Answer the fucking door, Jesus!" he yelled, going back to lifting. _12\. 13..._

"YOU COULD GET OFF YOUR LAZY ASS AND ANSWER IT YOURSELF, ASSFACE!" She screamed back, but he could hear her moving in the house towards the front door, regardless. Mickey heard the the door closing, and his sister's muffled words moving inside the house, followed by a second pair of feet. It was the sound of an all too familiar voice that caught Mickey's attention.

"I just came to see you," Ian's voice came through Mickey's door, slightly muffled, but still easy to understand.

 _Like fuck you're only here to see her_ Mickey thought quickly, trying to think up an excuse to talk to the boy just outside his room. "Who's at the goddamn door?" Mickey yelled, attempting to sound curious and unawares.

"It's for me, Shithead," screamed Mandy.

"Fuck," Mickey muttered. He set the weight down on his bed, and looked around the room for an old shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Mickey ran his hands through his hair nervously a few times before taking a deep breath. He let it out slowly and then reached for the weight on the bed, picked it up, and headed out of his room towards the living room, doing his best to act casual. He passed Mandy on the way to the living room, avoiding the sneer and glare on her face as he walked by. She had tried to talk him about Ian the previous week, after the ginger's drunken outing of their...whatever the fuck it was, and he had shut her down quick, telling her it was none of her goddamn business, and followed the words with a mouthful of whiskey. And maybe a couple more mouthfuls after that.

Eight steps was all it took for Ian's figure to come into view of the second youngest Milkovich, who drank him in like a man dying of thirst.

"Hey," he said with a smile, noticing the blank stare that came his way. He continued to act casual, hoping his aloofness to the tension would help clear the air that was thick between the two boys. "Up to four sets of twenty," Mickey said, lifting up the weight. He chuckled as he went on, "Get in here, I want to show you something," licking his lip, Mickey started to turn, but realized Ian had made no effort to move from his spot in the living room. "Come on," he said, turning fully, and walking back to his room, "Come check it out." Ian's footsteps were cautious as he followed Mickey.

  
Mickey's heart was beating fast in his chest. He knew Gallagher was upset about the wedding, and how things had turned out, but the look in his eyes terrified him. They were distant, closed off, even. He had always loved Gallagher's eyes. He might have hated speaking about his feelings, and shit, but he could always trust a quick glance to Ian's face, and know what he was thinking and feeling. He trusted those eyes to speak the words he wouldn't allow to be spoken out loud. Depended on them, though he'd never admit it. But the eyes that stared at him now; they could freeze an entire ocean they were so cold. So Mickey tried to act casual, and keep his emotions in check. _Act like everything's fine._

"Wife made me take all my Nazi shit down. She hates Nazis," he said, putting the weights down, and grabbing a cigarette. "Apparently, the Russians kicked some serious Krout ass in World War II, so..." he trailed off, sticking the cigarette in his mouth as he turned to look at Ian,while his hand searched for a lighter on the nightstand. "She can drink me under the fuckin' table, man. It's weird." The eyes that were focused on him were still constantly cold, and Mickey had to look away. He lit his cigarette, and took a second to breathe in the smoke before he let his eyes land once again on the emotionless statue standing in his doorway. He had to take another approach, because clearly ignoring the problem wasn't working. All Mickey wanted was for things to go back to normal, but they were eternally fucked. They HAD been good. Mickey had been making progress, and then his fucking psychotic, homophobic father had to go and fuck everything up. It was like taking two steps forward, and thirteen steps back. But he wanted the closeness again. He craved the feel of Gallagher's skin under his fingertips, those soft, pink lips devouring his own in a frenzy as the ginger boy's scent surrounded him, and the feeling of completion whenever he was with the Ian.

"Anyways," he said, walking around his bed and back to Ian, "She's working tomorrow night," Mickey said in a hopeful voice, biting the side of his lip, "Why don't we pick up where we left off?" He was now standing directly in front of the boy that consumed almost all of his thoughts. He was closer to him than he had been in a week, and Mickey's fingers were practically vibrating to reach out and touch his freckled skin. "Figure, if she's out fuckin' dudes, why can't I?" He looked at Ian under his lashes as he took another drag off his cigarette to calm his nerves, attempting to soothe the itch under his skin.

"No, thanks," Ian said calmly, shaking his head while he stared blankly at Mickey.

"Mmm," Mickey grinned, letting the smoke exit his mouth and surround his face like a cloud. "Hard to get's getting me hard, Gallagher," he muttered, looking the other boy up and down slowly with a grin plastered to his face.

"No. I'm leaving town." Ian replied.

Mickey laughed, not wanting to believe it. He made his way back around the bed. "There a queer rights rally somewhere?"

"Army," Ian said with a stoic face.

 _Thank fuck._ "Ahh. Right," he said, picking up a beer on his nightstand and taking a swig. He needed a fucking drink if he was going to deal with this shit. "Gotta be 18," he reminded Ian and himself, allowing the information to calm his nerves, with a little help from the alcohol that touched his lips, all the while staring at Gallagher from across the room.

"Yeah, I, uh, figured away around that," Ian responded, playing with a strap on his backpack.  
  
Mickey felt the pit of his stomach drop. He let the reality of Ian's words sink into his brain as he stared straight into Ian's eyes. _The fuck was he talking about? Finding a way around it? Was that a fucking joke?_ He let the silence linger on for a couple of seconds, hoping that the boy's words were merely a joke. But the longer he stared, the less likely it was that this was all some sort of lie that Ian had concocted to torture him. "You serious? You're signing up?"

"Tomorrow morning." The finality of his tone was like a punch to Mickey's gut.

He tried to contain himself, but the feeling that he was drowning was suddenly overwhelming. "That's a dumbass fuckin' move. How long?" He had to move closer, look at Ian's face. This couldn't be real. There was no way.

"Four years. Minimum."

The silence in the room was palpable as Mickey forced himself to keep his breathing steady. He felt like he was going to collapse any second. Four YEARS. No. There was no way this could be real. It had to be some sort of fucked up nightmare. There was no way Gallagher was leaving him in this hell for four fucking years. He continued to stare at him. "What are you hoping," He said, hearing his voice crack slightly from the emotion that was swimming there, "I tell you not to go?" He cringed at the shaking in his voice, and steeled himself. He wouldn't cry. And yet, he could feel the familiar sting as he felt the icy glare of Ian's stare on his skin. "That I'ma chase after you like some bitch?" He had to get away from Gallagher. He needed another fucking drink.

"I didn't come here for you," Ian said again, with that disgustingly calm voice, as he began to turn away from the door and walk away.

Panic coursed through Mickey's veins as he watched the back of Ian's coat face him. The terror that gripped him at the thought of losing Ian Gallagher caused him to step forward and let out a shaky, "Don't..." He let out a quivered breath when he saw Ian's figure come back into view.

"Don't what?" Ian asked with a steely voice.

Mickey took a step forward "Just..." He couldn't get the words out, but he tried to portray his wish with a meaningful stare. The gaze that met his was as cold as ever, and Mickey felt the air being knocked from his lungs, "Fuck," he muttered as his eyes began to fill with tears. He wiped his nose, not yet blocking his eyes from looking at Ian. It was when the other boy shook his head at him and turned his back once again that Mickey finally let the tears fall. He needed to sit down. His legs felt like jello, and it was as though there was an earthquake under his feet. There on his bed, Mickey let himself cry for the first time in over ten years.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and Kudos if you like it, guys. I'm hanging on pins and needles here :/


	6. Naked and Dumb on a Drunken Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a week and 1/2 after 3x05. The boys have had their first kiss, but they haven't seen each other since then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: soooooo, longest chapter yet, AND smut. and not just any smut. My first smut. Ever. Hopefully it doesn't suck :) Enjoy!!!!

 

Chapter 6: Naked and Dumb on a Drunken Night

 

 

_This is for the lake that me and my friends swim in,_

_Naked and dumb on a drunken night._

_And it should have felt good,_

_But I can hear the Jaws theme song on repeat in the back of my mind._

 

 

It was the fourth of July, and the Gallagher's were celebrating it right. Everyone from the neighborhood brought booze, drugs, food to BBQ, and a huge pile of stolen fireworks just waiting to be blasted off into the night's sky. There were drunks everywhere, roaming the streets of Chicago, stumbling as they walked either on the sidewalks or in the middle of the streets, too wasted to care. The Milkovich's had been invited to join in the celebration, not that an invitation was necessary. Mickey could hear the music blasting from his house, and could see the swarm of people surrounding the house before he even arrived with Mandy at 11pm.

 He and Mandy had been there for about an hour and a half already. He had mingled, sold a few drugs, and played beer pong. The first thing that he'd done when he showed up was make a b-line for the keg set up by the above ground pool. He'd grabbed a red cup, filled it to the top, and let his eyes roam the crowd, searching for a flash of red. He'd instantly spotted the younger boy, his red hair and height causing him to stick out like a soar thumb. Ian was with a group of people from the neighborhood, laughing and joking while he drank from his own red cup. Once Mickey found him, he had been tracking him throughout the night; never going up to him, just following his movements with his eyes.

It was around 1:30 that Mickey realized he had sold the last of his cocaine. He looked for Mandy, hoping she might have some on her, but found her grinding shamelessly with Lip, practically fucking him on the dance floor. Mickey felt himself gag slightly, chugging half of his beer, and then refilling his cup. He spotted Kev by a table near the stairs behind the house, and sauntered over to him, glancing only once at Ian, who hadn't seen him yet. The older man's head met the table, and Mickey heard him snort a line, before the same head shot back into the air.

"WOOOOOOOO!" Kev yelled to the black sky above him, shaking his head and beaming brightly.

"Mind if I have a couple of lines," Mickey asked, walking closer to the table. "Trade you for a few joints."

 "Sure man, go ahead," he said, wiping his nose and smiling.

 Mickey shook some of the white powder onto the table, grabbed the razor sitting a few inches away, and separated the coke into three lines. He brought his head down the the table, and snorted the first line, feeling the burn as the snow hit his nose. Mickey finished the next two quckly, and could feel the effects of the drug coursing through his system. He smirked at Kevin, pulled out four joints from his back pocket, and handed them over to the other man.

 "Thanks for that," Mickey said, wiping his nose with his right index finger. "Fuckin' sold all my coke to these shitheads," he said, gesturing to the crowd. 

"Don't worry about it," Kev said, shaking his hand. "Thanks for the joints." He sparked one up, and inhaled the smoke. Mickey smiled, feeling the effects of the coke, as he watched the bartender enjoy the high he was experiencing. All of a sudden, Mickey felt a familiar tingle up the back of his neck in the windless night. The small hairs stood up, a reaction he only received when a certain ginger was staring at him. 

Normally, Mickey would have ignored the urge to turn and meet the redhead's gaze, especially when there were so many witnesses, no matter how drunk and stupid they were, but tonight he was feeling adventurous. Mickey blamed the drugs for his giddiness and lack of fear as he turned his head and allowed his blue eyes to meet Ian's green ones. Mickey smirked at the heated gaze the redhead was throwing at him, and made his way over to the small group of guys that surrounded Gallagher. He wasn't as afraid to be seen in Ian's presence as he used to be. Over the past few years, seeing the two together had become more commonplace. Ever since Ian and Mandy had become friends, and then Mickey started working at the Kash n' Grab, people didn't bat an eye to a certain Milkovich hanging around Ian Gallagher in the southside streets. 

"Ay, Gallagher!" Mickey exclaimed with a smile plastered to his face, and a twinkle in his eye, whether it was from the drugs, or the redheaded boy in front of him.

"Hey, Mick," Ian said, a matching twinkle in his own eye as he subtly checked the other boy out. Mickey smirked in response, giving the redhead's body a sweep of his own when he noticed the people standing around Ian had slowly started moving away _,_ scared to be in the presence of a Milkovich on coke.

"Smells like you've been enjoying yourself there," Mickey said with a laugh, smelling the booze wafting off the boy from a few feet away. 

"It's a party!" Ian exclaimed, laughing as well, "Wouldn't be right not to take advantage of this patriotic holiday." 

"Yeah, yeah, Army boy," Mickey said, shoving him playfully. "You don't see me complaining, just making an observation, is all." Mickey said with a smile, letting his eyes scan Ian once again. He was wearing a tight band shirt that showed off his muscles, and Mickey felt himself grow hot the longer he stared at the way the t-shirt wrapped itself around the bulging biceps and six-pack underneath. The mugginess of the night, and the growing tightness in his jeans had Mickey shifting uncomfortably, and biting his lip. He was looking at the crowd, hoping no one was noticing his predicament, but found everyone blissfully unawares, too caught up in their own forms of celebration.

When he glanced back at Ian, he had to smirk at the barely contained look of hunger on the younger boy's face as he looked at Mickey. The two had been apart for a week and a half because Ian was on an ROTC retreat, and then Mickey had to make a run with his dad. The last time they had seen each other was a day after they robbed the house of the psychotic bitch that had shot him in the ass. It also happened to be the day that Mickey had first allowed himself to place a kiss on those soft pink lips that were now in front of his face, taunting him. Mickey had just arrived back that morning, and had been itching to get the younger boy on top of him ever since. The itch under his skin was becoming unbearable; he needed his fix, and he needed it fast.

"You, uh, wanna get outta here, firecrotch?" Mickey asked with a slow smile, meeting Ian's heated gaze with his own lust filled eyes. The energetic nod that was given as a response made Mickey laugh. He moved in close to the other boy, holding his eyes, and whispered, "My house. Twenty minutes." And with that, Mickey turned and walked out of the Gallagher's back yard. 

 

*M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I~*~M&I*

 

Seventeen minutes later, _but who was counting,_ Mickey watched Ian walk briskly down the sidewalk to the Milkovich household. He was smiling wide at Mickey, carrying a bottle of whiskey in his right hand.

"Good thinking," Mickey said, also unable to hide his smile at the sight of the redhead coming towards him. He got off the couch on his front lawn, and fell into step with Ian. 

"Where are we going?" he asked Mickey, looking curious but excited.

"You'll just have to wait and find out for yourself, firecrotch," Mickey smiled, glancing up at Ian under his lashes. 

The grin that erupted across the freckled face should have been illegal. Before Mickey could stop him, not that he's sure he would, Ian had gotten in close to Mickey's ear, so the brunette could feel his warm breath hitting his damp neck, "Is Mickey Milkovich taking me to a surprise," his words causing shivers to run down the shorter boy's spine. 

"Fuck off," he said, nudging Ian and laughing. They walked to the El, and Ian raised his brow when he saw they were traveling to the Northside. 

"We're not celebrating this day of Independence by robbing ANOTHER rich dudes house, are we, Mick?" Ian smiled. "I don't know if your ass can handle it."

_I'll tell you what my ass can handle_ Mickey thought wickedly, but chose to ignore the remark. "Jesus, just shut your trap and follow me," he said, walking onto the train and taking a seat in one of the many plastic chairs in the empty car. He smiled to himself as Ian sat next to him, not minding the heat of the other boy's body, despite it being a disgustingly humid night. 

"You wanna shut it up for me," Ian asked, once again getting in his personal space, and whispering close to his ear. Mickey felt Ian blow a little in his ear when he finished his sentence, a sensation that went straight to his already half hard cock.

Mickey groaned and met Ian's eyes, which were practically black with lust. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and whispered, "Later." 

Ian let a slow smile spread across his face, and Mickey felt even more blood rush south as the train made it's way north. 

The half hour long ride was tension filled, at least on Mickey's end. Ian must have taken something, because he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Mickey was constantly having to place Ian's hands back on his own lap when he felt them creeping up his thigh, inching closer and closer to his groin. 

"Fuck, Gallagher, would you quit it?" Mickey whispered hoarsely as he dragged Ian's hands away from his dick once again, an action he never thought he would find himself doing not just once, but repeatedly. "We're almost there" 

"That's what I'm hoping for," Ian said, biting his lip and grinning. Mickey glared at the redhead, but the lust in his blue eyes caused the ginger boy to shift in his seat. Mickey smirked, and, hearing the train come to a halt at their stop, gave the younger boy's cock a quick squeeze, and got up to exit the doors that were now open. Ian groaned in his seat, but followed Mickey's heels as they walked out into the night.

Twenty minutes later, Ian and Mickey found themselves turning onto a rich looking neighborhood, it's residents either asleep for the night, or away for the holiday. Mickey wiped his hand against his face, collecting the sweat that had built up around his brow due to the summer heat, and praised himself for the idea that had popped up in his head earlier that night. 

"Here we are, firecrotch," Mickey said with a smile, taking another swig from the whiskey bottle, handing it to Ian, and turning into the large, clean cut yard of a yellow house. The boys had been drinking from the bottle since they got off the El, and were happily sloshed.

Ian glanced around the neighborhood, looking for onlookers, but finding none. "What are we doing here, Mickey?" he asked, sounding, nervous, curious, and excited. 

"What's it look like," he asked, opening the gate of a white picket fence separating the front and back yards. "Going for a swim on this hot as fuck night." Once again, Ian showed his enthusiasm as a grin was plastered instantly to his face at the idea of a private swim session with Mickey Milkovich. "You gonna pussy out on me, Gallagher?" Mickey didn't even finish the sentence before Ian was sprinting into the back, pulling clothes off as he went. Mickey laughed at the redhead's excitement, and followed suit, whipping his shirt over his head, and starting to unbuckle his pants. He almost tripped over the half empty whiskey bottle as he worked his jeans off his legs, and turned his head when he heard a loud _SPLASH_ as Ian's naked body cannonballed into the pool. Mickey hurried even quicker out of his clothes, and followed his, whatever he was, into the pool. 

The cool water surrounded his body, and Mickey let his eyes close in pleasure, dipping his head back as he came back up to the surface. He shook his head, water droplets flying everywhere, including the abs of a ginger God who was staring at him with unabashed desire. Mickey felt himself swallow the lump in his throat at the redhead's smoldering gaze, and started to slowly back up towards the edge of the pool as Ian made his way forward.

"Like what you see, firecrotch?" Mickey asked with a smile, still backing up. He felt his dick twitch at the look on Ian's face; fire scorching the parts of his body where Ian's eyes landed. 

"Mick," Mickey looked at Ian, holding his gaze as the redhead stepped ever closer, his voice low and guttural. "Shut. The. Fuck," He finished each word with a step, and ended the sentence by backing Mickey against the pool wall, trapping his arms behind his back. "Up," he whispered into the brunette's ear. Mickey felt Ian's hand grip the base of his cock, and stroke upwards, using the tip of his thumb to trace the head. Mickey's head fell back as he let out a groan, feeling even more blood rush to his aching member. 

He closed his eyes and let out a slow, "Fuuuuuuuuuck," as Ian continued stroking him, but frowned when the redhead's movements became lazy, almost teasing. Mickey opened his eyes and looked at the boy now gripping his dick. "The hell are you waiting for," he panted, meeting Ian's eyes, feeling the heat crackling between the two of them. "Fuckin' get on me, already!" 

The tension between them snapped. Ian took his hand away from Mickey's cock, causing the older boy to let out a whimper, which was quickly cut off when he felt long fingers teasing his entrance. With his head thrown back once again, Mickey opened his legs wider, helping the redhead slip a long finger into his needy hole. Ian pumped several times before adding a second finger, and began to quickly scissor his digits, working to stretch him out. 

"Shit, fuck," Mickey drunkenly muttered, rejoicing in the feel of Ian's skin touching his own. His arms wiggled behind him as he tried to break free, desperately wanting to drag his hands along Ian's chest and arms. He felt the taller boys fingers grasp the hair on the back of his head, and move it to the side, allowing sharp teeth to nip and bite along his neck, driving Mickey mad with lust. Ian's nose drifted along his skin as his lips wrapped around the older boy's adam's apple and sucked, all the while working Mickey to a frenzy with the fingers still scissoring his hole. "Hurry the fuck up, firecrotch," Mickey gasped out. His body felt like it was on fire wherever Ian touched him. The redhead's hands moved over Mickey's shoulders and down his chest, stopping quickly to tweak one of his nipples, which caused a growl to erupt from the older boy's throat. 

He twisted in Ian's embrace, seeking to control the situation, and finally succeeded in breaking his arms free. Mickey flipped positions, shoving Ian against the pool's wall, hearing him let out a soft, "oooof," when his back hit the solid surface. He sucked a pink nipple into his mouth as his left hand gripped the younger boys cock, and worked him to full hardness. Ian's face was masked in bliss as Mickey worked his body, pride swelling in the Milkovich's chest at the little sounds escaping pink lips when he cupped Ian's balls. Mickey drunkenly pumped the boy's throbbing member as he held him against the wall, wanting to continue the delicious sounds escaping the redhead's mouth. 

"Mickey," Ian warned as the brunette's grip tightened slightly, and he started stroking faster, "If you don't stop..." Ian was cut off by Mickey's tongue licking a strip up his neck. 

"But I wanna plaaaaaay, firecrotch," Mickey sing-songed millimeters from Ian's lips, feeling the coke and alcohol running through his system, and enjoying having having Ian be putty in his hand. 

Mickey let out a breathy moan as Ian's hand gripped his own leaking cock and started pumping again. "Thought you wanted me to fuck you," he said, smirking at Mickey who started thrusting into the freckled hand. "Playtime's over, Mick," Ian murmured in his ear, quickly flipping them again, and spreading Mickey's thighs. 

Mickey wrapped his shorter legs around Ian's slim waist and met the green orbs looking down at him with his own smoldering stare. Long fingers glided over his hole once more, testing his readiness, before the tip of Ian's cock brushed over his entrance. Too drunk and high to care, Mickey let out another needy moan, and tried to shift his hips in order to get the head of Ian's dick inside him. Before he knew what hit him, Ian thrust forward, embedding half of his cock in Mickey's heat. 

"Ohhhhhh fuuuuuuuck," Mickey cried as he arched his back. He breathed out in pants as Ian started moving almost instantly, keening at the hard cock working it's way inside of him. A few seconds later, Ian was seated fully, his face resting on the brunettes's shoulder. Ian lifted his head after a second, and pulled most of his dick, as well as a desperate moan, from Mickey. When just the head was inside of the other boy, Ian ploughed back in, eliciting a cry of pleasure from both parties. 

The pace set by the two boys was terrifying. Having been apart for over a week, the tension between them was overwhelming and intoxicating. Water sloshed over the edge of the pool from the fast thrusts, as groans, moans, and whimpers filled the night air. Mickey could feel two identical bruises forming on his hips where Ian's hands held him steady, setting the speed of his thrusts. The brunette's shorter arms found their way around Ian's back, scratching and clawing at the freckled skin beneath his nails. He threw his head back as the younger boy started to twist his hips as he moved in and out at lightning speed. 

All of a sudden, Mickey felt Ian turn them around once again, so that the taller boy was now leaning against the pool wall. The brunette still had his ankles locked around his partner's hips, and felt Ian's large hands gripping his ass, needing the skin, mindful of the healing bullet wound on the thug's ass cheek.

The air between them changed, and Mickey realized that Ian had stopped thrusting into him. The sound of pool water splashing had been replaced by the chirp of crickets and the boys' heavy breathing. Mickey slowly opened his baby blues, and brought his head back up to look down at the green eyes staring at him in awe. Mickey's breath caught in his throat as he became mesmerized by Ian's body glistening in the moonlight, accentuated by the crystal blue water surrounding them. They stared into each others eyes, Mickey too intoxicated and caught up in the green gaze to squash the romantic moment. His eyes drifted down to the luscious lips that were parted as the younger boy looked up at him. Mickey let out a groan when he saw a slick pink tongue swipe along the plump bottom lip, which was then enveloped by pearly white teeth. 

Mickey let out a growl deep in his throat, and dove his head down to capture the strip of flesh. He replaced Ian's teeth with his own, and bit forcefully on the bottom lip that taunted him, soothing the bite with a stroke of his tongue. Ian groaned into Mickey's mouth, and bucked and swirled his hips quickly. 

"Shiiit, Ian, fuuuuck," Mickey panted out when the head of Ian's cock bumped into his prostate. "Right fucking there! JESUS!!!" He cried out when Ian started thrusting with purpose, hitting Mickey's sweet spot with every stroke. Ian's lips came up to capture his own as he moved in and out, swallowing the older boy's wails of pleasure. Mickey panted and tried to bring his right hand to grasp his leaking cock, only to have it slapped away by Ian's palm, which momentarily let go of his ass. 

"No," he said, meeting the brunette's gaze once again, and holding it, "Look at me," he whispered, halting his motions until he was sure he had Mickey's attention. As Mickey gazed at Ian, he felt emotion swell inside him, feeling like the younger boy could see right into his soul. The feeling became too much for Mickey, and after a couple of seconds, he started to squirm as best he could on Ian's dick. Ian frowned and placed his hand back on Mickey's ass, gripping it tight to stop his actions. The redhead, still holding Mickey's gaze, slowly pulled his cock out of the clenching hole. He left the tip in to be held by the ring of muscles, and thrust hard into Mickey, using the grip he had on the other boy's ass to pull him down and meet his thrust. He repeated the action, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back in to hit Mickey's prostate with dead accuracy. 

Mickey felt himself start to come undone at the ginger's ministrations. His hole began clenching around Ian's member, and he felt the telltale tingle in his balls. "Oh god, fuck, shit, Ian," Mickey unconsciously muttered, too lost in the ecstasy he was feeling. "Almost fucking there, fuck!" He cried out as Ian increased his speed, still not touching Mickey's dick between them. Their lips found each other once again when Ian's pumping became erratic, both of them seeking the release they desperately desired. Three more hard, swirling thrusts to Mickey's prostate, and the southside thug was falling apart around the cock pounding into him. 

Mickey's mouth fell open in a silent scream, and his back arched as his orgasm hit him. The older boy's load spurted between them as his hole milked the cock erupting inside of him, painting Mickey's canal with ropes of thick, white cum. Ian clasped his teeth on Mickey's collarbone as he came, branding the Milkovich as his own. They stayed that way for a several moments, clutching each other as they came down from their climax.

"Goddamn, Gallagher," Mickey panted, looking at Ian and smiling, "That was..." 

"Yeah," Ian said back, bringing his head up to stare back at Mickey with a dopy grin on his face. His eyes were wide open and drinking Mickey in as they looked at him under thick lashes. Mickey could read the look on the younger Ian's face, and knew he wanted to kiss him. Mickey panicked suddenly and started to fidget in the younger boy's embrace. Ian dropped his eyes in disappointment, but knew not to push too hard on the other boy when it came to expressing his emotions. Mickey felt sadness grip him when Ian began to pull out, but he dropped his legs despite himself. He tried to ignore the emptiness that consumed him once he had stepped away from the redhead. 

"I need a smoke after that," Mickey said, distancing himself a little more from the redhead as he moved to the edge of the pool and lifted himself out. The warm air hit his naked flesh as Mickey searched his jeans for his smokes. Grinning in victory, he pulled them out of his back pocket along with a lighter, and lit up. He puffed on the cigarette while he watched Ian swim laps in the pool, enjoying the calm that settled over him after a fantastic fuck and post-orgasm smoke. Ian swam over to him after a couple of minutes, and extended his hand to Mickey's for the cigarette. Mickey walked over Ian, and sat down so just his legs were in the pool. He handed the burning stick over to Ian and kicked slowly in the water. 

"So, why here," Ian asked after exhaling the smoke from his lungs, and passing the cigarette back to Mickey. 

"I sell coke to the guy that lives here. He just bought a fuck ton for the weekend, so I knew he was going to be away," Mickey shrugged and filled his lungs with smoke. Ian grabbed the whiskey by Mickey's left arm and took a swig from the bottle, shuttering as the amber liquid traveled down his throat. A trickle missed his lips, and Mickey lent forward to lick it off with the tip of his tongue, causing Ian to shudder besides him. The brunette smirked at his reaction as he pulled back and took a puff from the cigarette once again. 

"And if he wasn't actually away," Ian questioned, taking another gulp of whiskey. 

"Wouldn't be the first time my ass found itself in Juvie, firecrotch," Mickey smirked, taking the bottle from Ian's hand. The redhead laughed and rolled his eyes before he went back to swimming in the pool. Mickey enjoyed himself by watching Ian's body explore the space, his ginger head popping up from under the water every so often to catch his breath. 

"Mickey! Get in the pool!" Ian cried from the shallow end, beaming brightly. 

"I'm fine just where I am," Mickey said, enjoying the view of water droplets traveling down Ian's glistening torso. He licked his lips and watched as Ian's pout turned into a smirk. The taller boy dropped down so his body was submerged once again by the cool water, and began to swim towards him. When his head broke the surface, Mickey heard him begin to hum the _Jaws_ theme song. Mickey frowned, but stayed where he was, watching Ian's form grow closer and closer. 

"Dude, seriously, I don't want to come in right now," Mickey continued, panicking slightly, feeling his heart beat pick up. 

Ian didn't listen, just continued swimming forward towards Mickey, still humming the theme song that had Mickey shaking slightly. "Ian, I mean it, stop-" but the redhead didn't listen to him, instead choosing to grab onto both of Mickey's ankles and pull the shorter boy roughly into the pool. Water filled his mouth and nose as Mickey's head was dunked by Ian. He struggled to come back to the surface quickly, and scrambled out of the pool. "I said stop! I'll get in the pool when I fuckin' feel like it!" 

Ian looked at Mickey with fear in his eyes, watching as the older boy sputtered and caught his breath. "Mickey, I, I'm sorry," he said, gazing down at the water, guilt clear on his face. 

Mickey sighed audibly once he calmed down, and turned to look at Ian. "It's alright, Gallagher. No harm done, I just...I don't like being forced in the water, that's all." Ian frowned in confusion, but didn't blurt out the questions that were clearly written on his handsome face, which Mickey was thankful for. Mickey placed his legs back in the water, and gestured for Ian to come towards him. He opened his thighs and allowed the ginger boy to settle between them, lifting Ian's chin with his index finger, and kissing him deeply to convey that everything was alright. The redhead relaxed into the kiss, and swept his tongue against Mickey's full bottom lip, seeking entrance. He groaned into Ian's mouth when their tongues finally met, quickly battling for dominance. Mickey pulled away after a while, nipping Ian's top lip with his teeth, and meeting his wide eyes. They stayed silent for a while, letting the sounds of the night play in the background, a calm spreading between them.

"When I was seven," Ian said, a distant look on his face, "Monica had stuck around for a few months after having Carl, but it was around June that she became manic again. I remember it was the last day of school, the temperatures that week had been in the low nineties, and Frank had promised to bring me to the community pool when I got home." Mickey watched Ian's face as he told his story, staying silent as the taller boy spoke. "Of course, when I got home, nobody was there to take me. He and Monica had gone out and gotten high on god knows how many drugs. That night, though, when I was asleep, Monica woke me up at, like, 2:00am, and drove me to a rich neighborhood like this, and we broke into someone's pool, just like tonight," Ian laughed, remembering that night with his mom. He became silent suddenly, lost in the memories from that years before, "It's my favorite memory that I have with her," he said, looking back into Mickey's eyes. Mickey nodded in understanding, thinking of his own mother. 

"My mom taught me how to swim when I was six," Mickey said after a while, not looking at Ian, but knowing the younger boy was listening. "I remember feeling like an idiot with those fuckin' floaty things on my arms, but I was so scared that I'd drown, I didn't care," he laughed, remembering how stupid he looked with the yellow inflatable arm bands wrapped around his skinny arms. "I was practicing swimming without the arm-band-floaty-shit on for the first time, and my mom left me in the shallow end while she went to the bathroom," He stopped to take a breath, shaking slightly. Ian saw his quivering limbs, and moved closer to Mickey, not touching him for fear of ruining the moment, but closer. "Iggy and Joey came over to me, humming that fucking _Jaws_ shit, and grabbed me by the shoulders, and held me under the pool. They kept doing it, laughing when they would finally let me up for air. They held me down for too long one time, tho," Mickey trailed off, leaving Ian to gaze at him in horror. "It took the lifeguard four minutes until I finally started breathing again..." The silence was thick in the air when Mickey finished his story. "I...I don't like that stupid fucking _Jaws_ song...and I prefer getting into a pool on my own." Ian nodded his head in understanding, his eyes open in apology. Mickey nodded his head to show he forgave him. "Now," said Mickey with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood, and show Ian that he was alright, "I remember saying something earlier about shutting you up with my cock..." glancing down at the growing apendage. Ian's face broke out into his own grin as he dove down between Mickey's thighs, enveloping it in his warm mouth. Mickey closed his eyes and ran his hand through Ian's red hair, enjoying the summer night with the boy he was slowly falling in love with.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and kudos!!! :)


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